A Warm Place
by Evil Cat Hater
Summary: Oneshot. A Remus Lupin and Hermione Granger story told by a different and unusual source: Crookshanks. RLHG, AU
1. Chapter 1

_This story is dedicated to my love: Maxie Two Socks. Maxie, I still love you. It is also dedicated to a very-near but somewhat lost friend. Please don't drift away like others, you're the only _**real **_one._

This is written in the view of the one cat that I can stand: Crookshanks.

Oh, this isn't a song fiction, by the way. A Warm Place is an awesome song by Nine Inch Nails; it only inspired me to write this!

And before I forget, I don't own Harry Potter. It's bad enough that I have dreams of J. K.Rowling dancing on a pilar with me on the ground, juggling the Harry Potter series, and singing, "_Can't touch this..._", butI now must be reminded with telling my readers I don't own Harry Potter? Ugh, this is evil...so enjoy!

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I sit in my comfy recliner chair that Master's boyfriend bought just for me and look out the window to see the little snowflakes fall down against the blackened sky. So far I can report nothing of interest besides that stupid bloody white mouse that I can't catch is planning to get into the refrigerator and steal all of the good cheese that's _mine._

Besides that, I don't have anything horrible or depressing to say, unlike before when I had a hard time catching up with the events that had recently happened then. Even though I am a cat, and I have a remarkably small brain as four eyes reminds my Master and I constantly, I still can remember and comprehend the pain and suffering my Master was forced to go through.

To this day, I will not and never understand, for once, the actions and thoughts that idiot redhead came up with, and I will not try to. I would have to stoop to his level, and I'm quite comfortable on this recliner, thank you very much.

Since I have nothing better to do than watch snowflakes fall down and catch pests called meals, I should recall to the reader the past events you might not have been aware of because they are secret and only I, besides a few others, know and will tell.

I remember my horrible, cramped days in that damn pest store and the glowing face of my Master as she paid for me and learned she was doing a good thing in buying a grumpy thing like me. Even though at the time I wasn't so enthusiastic about being the feline companion of a brat with bushy hair I was dearly hoping to swat at until it was flat, I learned to love her.

My Master was suffering devastation from the idiot friends she held onto - for what reason, who knows? - and I was trying my best to be as kind and compassionate as possible, but I did make a new friend, a black dog who was a falsely accused murderer.

The time quickly passed by, and my friend was forced to run away because of bloody tarts called men, but I couldn't let it get to me much.

Once again, I remember the years passing by quickly until I remember it abruptly stopped when I learned of my friend's death. After that, I have lost a piece of me, but I had to keep on living with revenge etched deep within my mind. That bloody fuck called a House Elf, who my Master was trying to protect from the other dense idiots, was dearly going to pay once my claws were long enough to causeit as much pain as possible.

The years yet again flashed by my eyes, and I then realized that it was the last year I was going to spend in the castle my Master seemed to be infatuated with along with the book on it.

My Master was now more emotionally attached to that redhead moron who I've always hated from his attempts to falsely accuse _me_ when I was trying to retrieve his rat, who quite franklyI might remind_wasn't_ a pet. Even after that I still didn't trust him after the nights my Master spent wasting with him or talking about him with me when we were alone in her room.

The idiot was always on her mind, she recalled to me; well, actually, she called him '_Ron_' or '_Ronald_', but I like to call him an idiot or 'The-Retard-Who-Seemed-To-Keep-On-Living-With-No-Brains-To-Help-Him'.

Anyway, I decide that no matter how many dead mice I leave in his shoes or how many muddy footprints I stomp onto his bed sheets, he's going to be stuck with my Master and me for life.

You may wonder why I hate him so much. It can't be expressed with words, and you may not be able to understand it, but I do. There's that _look _he has in his eyes, not the twinkle the old Headmaster held, nor the empty, black depths of the dark man who used to occupy the dungeons, but a _look_. It haunted me, and it seemed to mock me making me want to claw his eyes out. It was a look of knowledge I did not know or possess; finally achieved smugness and dark lies.

I knew at once my Master was going to be hurt no matter what happened.

No matter how many cries and pleas I sent her, she would giggle at me and hold me to her tightly before going on about that arse. It seemed she wasn't able to understand me like my old friend was able to.

During my time of hissing and clawing at the redhead, I noticed that the fire in his eyes were beginning to burn brighter and brighter making my tail fluff up and my spine tingle. After that my Master would return to the room we shared where I found her face wet and her eyes red and immediately recognized that she was crying beforehand. I, of course since it was my feline duty, let her squeeze me tight, cry into my ginger fur, and repeat over and over, "_Oh Crooks…_"

She came back crying almost every night, and her sobs echoed loudly in the room which made me stay up and listen to her. I did not take pleasure in it. It tore at my heart and made me want to cause as much bodily harm as possible on the redhead who did it.

Even though I knew that my Master did not specifically say, "_Ron is making me cry_" or hint that it was him, I could sense it was him from his eyes every time he invaded our room.

He would appear unexpectedly and instantly my Master and the bastard, (hey, I rhymed, could that mean I'm a poet and a storyteller?), would have a terrible row with me posing and ready to attack the jerk when possible if things got physical. It only happened once when he slapped my Master clear across the face as she then fell to the bed sobbing pitifully. I mustered as much anger as possible with past memories that my brain held and the protectiveness I was feeling for my Master and attacked him as fiercely as I could.

That was the only time I wished to be human so I could harm him even more, but my claws were able to do the part with his face as my target. I had heard from the other nosy female students that after my attack,the red boy had a face full of cuts, but I was disappointed to hear the nurse was able to heal him rather quickly. I should have known and followed the boy so I could cause more harm to him or a disaster in the Hospital Wing, but my Master was absolutely devastated and heartbroken so I had to take care of her first before I worried about revenge.

I slept next to her as she stopped sobbing as if afraid I would hear and pity her for she was supposed to be strong and take care of me, not the other way around. I didn't mind at the moment, and when she did cry I licked at her tears before deciding they weren't tasty and pawed gently,-for I am a wild cat people, so beware and don't upset me!- at them instead.

My Master then announced to me one day before we were going to leave for Christmas break that she and the Weasel were now officially not dating anymore. I wanted to dance and party all night long, but I didn't for my Master look crushed and lonely. I told you she was going to get hurt no matter what happened.

I no longer decided to seek out revenge on the red boy for they decided to never be more than friends again. I was calm now for I didn't have to see him anymore along with his eyes, but it didn't stop my Master from crying and crying and crying until she cried herself to sleep.

But she had stopped once we arrived at the birthplace of the red boy for she didn't have a room to herself anymore. She shared it with the irritating redhead's sister who never left my Master alone no matter what time of day it was.

I only put up with the dense idiots that surrounded the place because my Master did. She was growing stronger and more independent as the days went on which made me proud to be her feline pet.

I remember the one night that had changed our lives when we were both sitting in the small, yet spacious study as I purred under her magical hand while she read from a book I don't remember because I loose track of them constantly.

Just then I smelt and sensed a male enter the library, and I smelled a scent that was familiar yet distant. It smelled like my old friend, yet in a more wolfish way, and I slowly looked up to see the werewolf that occupied the space in the doorway.

My Master also looked up and greeted him cheerfully as he greeted her back and sat in a chair close to her, which made me uncomfortable for I do not trust men as easily as I once did. I observed the two as they began a conversation that last hours on one bloody book. One bloody book! How in Merlin's name can one even be occupied with the book for an hour? From the summaries my Master gives me, I would be more interested in watching two from the clan of redheads attempting to disfigure good furniture and hit each other with it instead.

Yet when I saw the two even look at each other in the eye, I felt a spark of chemistry in the air when I felt an odd and perfect plan form in my head. I could trust the werewolf; he seemed to be more mature than the redheaded boy and his stupid friend and as smart as my Master.

My Master sensed my smug face and began to tease me and hold me tenderly while I watched with curiosity as the werewolf gave me a _look_. (It seems I've been getting a lot of looks, huh?) But this one wasn't cold or cruel that I knew could only mean negative events were to come; it was a look of jealously! Right then I knew what I was doing was right.

For the next couple of days I made sure that the two talked to each other at least once and at least for more than five minutes. And by the looks of it, it seemed they were getting closer and closer, and then I understood what it meant to see love being created in the world of devastation and absolute sorrow. It was the small blossom in the garden of destruction that kept growing time after time with necessities, too, of course.

I noticed my Master was starting to become more distant as the days went on and was beginning to lock herself in her room instead of talking to the lycanthrope. That was not going to happen after I wasted my time in making sure she was going to be happy!

After decisive planning and snooping, I was able to steal my Master's quill while she was trying to write a letter, which she was doing frequently meaning writing letters but placing them in boxes and hiding them, and sprinted as fast as I could to the study where I found the werewolf once again sitting in the chair he was when they first talked.

Instantly I jumped onto his lap, startling him from his train of thought, as I made myself cozy on his lap with the quill in my mouth. Just then my Master came in and was scolding me brutally before realizing whose lap I was sitting on.

I could practically feel those damn sparks flying as they began to talk, and I, taking my chance, slipped away to retrieve mistletoe. After my Master had made herself comfortable next to the werewolf on the couch, I snuck up next to my Master with the plant in my mouth while trying not to poison myself in the process.

The werewolf had noticed my actions and chuckled, making my Master also notice my guilty yet smug face as she began to scold me.

Just then, shocking my Master and I, the werewolf kissed her on the lips.

I knew they were meant to be as I stalked away unnoticed while their kisses became more fiery and intense that would surely over boil water if it had the chance to. It seems that the blossom was in full bloom but was yet to grow more beauty for this sorrow-filled world we lived in.

See? I knew what I was doing, and four eyes doubted me and insulted me when he talked about my brain. As if he has one. Who in their right mind would side with that red boy and accuse _me_ of killing the rat, even though I would have if I had gotten the chance to? I'm glad you understand.

From then on I didn't have to do anything to keep them from breaking up for their inner chemistry was able to balance out their good sides and bad sides which seemed to have shocked both of them for what reasons, I have no clue.

After my Master had graduated from the blessed school she had attended, she and I moved from her parent's house into a petite, yet comfortable apartment with the werewolf, and so far we haven't moved out of it since.

Of course, I took the pleasure in seeing the red boy and four eyes gaping and protesting whenmy Master and her boyfriend told them of their romantic relationship with one another. While the discussion was going on, I made sure to give the redhead a smug look when my Master held me with her werewolf standing beside her instead of it being the other way around even with the redhead beside my Master and werewolf by four eyes, even though everyone thought my Master and the redhead would make a good couple. What dunderheads.

Well, it's Christmas evening, and I'm contemplating whether I should attack the white mouse before he steals _my_ cheese because the story's pretty much over now. I do know now that my Master is thanking her werewolf for the ring he gave her, and I don't even dare want to step into that bedroom from past experiences.

So, does that make me Crookshanks Lupin now? It's not bad, but, it could be better. I'm trying hard not to complain, but what do _I _get to do around here that concerns them? Damn it, I'm naming their baby, (if they ever have one), and they better like Tuna.

Oh, well, I might as well get that mouse before the boredom of snowflakes gets to me. Back to my usual routine, if you don't mind. My intelligent mind needs a break and needs to become barbaric for a few moments. Maybe I'll have another good story for you in a few years time if you're lucky and offer me a plate with something good on it…

End...

* * *

To those who inquire about the weirdness of my penname: I hate my cat, and to make herself useful for once I chose her to be the theme of my penname.

To the people who requested a sequel to Moonlight Walks, do you mind waiting just a bit longer? I'm sorry, but I have very little free time left now that the summer's over, and it all gets divided into the time I spend with my family, my friends, my leftover work, my computer, and my stories. Please be patient, you three, I believe, because I DO have a story line, I just have a total of two stories that need to be finished quickly first before I loose interest in them. I hope you can understand, thank you!

Thank Yous:

To Bethany: I'll go to a football game and watch you one day, I will! (Hopefully…) You're the best of the best so please don't stop!

To Jen: this story's a part of your birthday present even though it's early! And it's for doing so much to the drawing I did even though that stupid website wouldn't take it!

To Christina: if you are able to actually find this or I finally showed this to you, I just want to let you know that I love your stories! You're a great inspiration, and I hope to one day be able to see one of your stories published!

To Meaghan: I hate it that I can't see you everyday! And I'm sorry that I am not able to read every update up post on your story, but I'll try with all my might and review to my heart's content when I get the chance to!

To My Other Reviewers: thank you! I really mean it because you all help me feel full with the nice things you tell me. I can't stop smiling when I see that I have reviews waiting to be read. You all can make a difference when you tell authors kind, yet informative, words. Shame on you if you're an author and don't review! You above all should know how great it feels to get reviews!

To Maxie Two Socks: I know it was you, I don't care what they said. I still cry for you and the unfair decisions they made that affected us. I hope to see you again one day. My heart is still repairing itself. I love you with all of my heart.

To My Very-Near But Somewhat Lost Friend: when I listen to A Warm Place, I also see and remember the stupid things we did together, whether it was competing with you or fighting with you. I hate it that I can't do anything, and I hope that you're not mad at me. I would never do anything to make you feel small or pathetic; you're everything I wanted to be. You're not shy and very optimistic when things so unusually dark. You do not fear anything, not even those ghost stories or Chuckie. Thank you for the inspiration, and I'm deeply sorry for not sending you a letter in return or anything else I've done wrong. You're one of the triplets I lost.

To Those Who Feed My Angry Side: fuck you. I hope the truth smacks you clear across your face.

Some Notes From Me-

The idea for this story came up when I was listening to Nine Inch Nail's song A Warm Place. Every time I listen to the song, I remember the time that I was sitting down by the large sliding glass doors instead of at a desk in school, watching the delicate clumps of pure white snow fall onto the orange painted deck, and petting my beloved Maxie as she watched Mother Nature work with me. I wondered what it was like for her to sit placidly with me when I came up with the idea of Crookshank's having a view and playing a part in building a relationship where Remus and Hermione became more than friends.

I tried to beef it up, but I failed. I just hope you've enjoyed this story like I have when I check it over because for just those few precious moments it takes me into the land J.K. Rowling has created with just her imagination and creativity. I know I can never measure up to her -but I do value her as my hero!- and sometimes I find that one story that I can waste hours on just reading it before I notice how long I spent on the computer. I hope you can understand what I am talking about, and I would hope that I have created that one passageway straight into the land of Harry Potter.

If you have read everything so far, I thank you very much!

Blah-

Review please! I would greatly appreciate it! I don't care if are you're going to tell me that you love Nine Inch Nails like I do! (Hey, _does_ anyone out there like NIN?) Like I said before: "_Shame on you're an author and don't review! You above all should know how great it feels to get reviews!_" Anyway, thanks a bunch!


	2. Replys to My Lovely Reviewers

Hey! I'm back, but sadly with only repliesfor my lovely reviewers, (as stated in the chapter's title).

I forgot to mention before that this story cannot be a songfic because A Warm Place, by the awesome Nine Inch Nails, has no lyrics. Hehe, please excuse my stupidity...

**Reply's:**

**Dingbat in cat clothes-** helps stand back up thanks soo much! I greatly appreciate your review! And I've never really read a Crookshanks based story...and it's alright! I, at first, thought Hermione/Lupin was sorta weird, but don't worry! I don't write Hermione/Draco stories, hehe, you can have him, he's ALL yours! Nine Inch Nails isn't a British group, actually, and I am also in the US. But if your curious about to who they are before you walk into another door: (pardon the guy's picture, it's a bit scary...) http / music . msn . com / artist / default . aspx ? artist 16074475 & stab 4 (Without the spaces, of course.) Thanks alot, you're the best!

**R J Lupin's Kat-** hehe, thanks! And the attitude comes from my idea of what my cat would be thinking, I was trying to make it as realistic as possible and I thank you for telling me your viewpoint on the attitude. And I _do _like some cats, just not all, hehe. :) and with the whole 'lose' and 'loose' error...sorry about that. Seems as though Microsoft can't catch as much as I thought it did, so thanks! I'll try to check for it, but if not, would you be interested in betaing whatever I can come up with next? I'd greatly appreciate it! Anyway, I have a few ideas scrambling around in my head, and I hope to have one story out by the end of this year, so stay tuned!

**fadedglory-** thanks! I too love Remus/Hermione fics, and you're totally correct in pointing out that they're meant to be (in my opinion, and yours, too) hehe...

**siriusly lupine-** heya! and thanks, and Crookshanks thanks you for the mice and is telling me to say to you, 'Anytime!' hehe.

**lupinsmoon12391-** thank you, and I'm very glad you loved it! hehe, and I'd agree with you on the opinion that Hermione and Remus are sweet together, hehe. And I've never read a story from a cat's point of view either...hehe.

**brittany-** yo Britt, what's up? hehe, and thanks! I wish I was einstein smart, but you are! hehe...thanks!

**Le Grimoire- **nice name! I really like it, it's very awesome! Anyway, thanks a bunch! And I based Crookshank's attitude on what I believed my cat would say and do if she could. For the second time, she's useful! hehe, and I'm very glad you found it hiliarious, and I also thank you for adding the story to your favorites! hehe

**Anonomous-** thank you so much! I'm very glad you loved it!

**Black-rose23-** I'm very glad you love it, hehe, and I based his attitude on what I believed my cat would do or say, hehe. She's finally useful (for the second time, ever). hehe, I just love Crookshanks!

**Saiya-jin girl-** hehe, I'm glad you liked it! And for the Crookshanks Lupin, I remembered that my cat, at the vet, was called Misty and then my last name. I found it weird, and I'm glad you caught that and found it funny. And thanks a bunch!

**SpikesDreamer-** hehe, thank you! I'm very glad you liked it. I once again apologize for the mis-understanding with the e-mail. I can be an idiot sometimes! You're so awesome:)

Anyway, so thanks veryy much to all those people! Hope to see you all in the near future!

Evil Cat Hater


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